An Assassins Heaven
by thenerdyangel
Summary: Prequel to Disease of Love and Affection. Much to her surprise, Natasha got sent to Heaven, complete with the whole paradise only she would dream of... Or is it complete? Something is added to her slice of the dream, but she's confused as to the reason why.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello! It's been ages since I've written something! This is a kind of prequel to Disease of Love and Affection (inspired by ****wolfhawke26****). I don't intend it to be too long, but let's see where it goes! I got most of my heaven ideas from Supernatural.**

**Reviews/opinions/suggestions would be fab ;)**

Enjoy!

1. New serenity

Natasha sighed heavily, but still happily, as she sunk into the soft cream material that draped over the golden throne type chair which sat on a slightly higher stage of the large hall. The tiny wooden stool that faced her from the centre of the room was now empty, dry blood peeling on the seat whilst the fresh lot gradually trickled down onto the marble floor.

Deep thought crept over the red-heads mind, she'd had this discussion with herself many times before, yet it recurred still.

"_Why would God, or whoever, let me into Heaven?" _she asked herself mentally, admiring the gleaming crimson that was neatly manicured and painted perfectly onto her long fingernails _"and more importantly, let me have a heaven like this one?"_

Thoughts of a similar topic whirled around her mind as she sat up straighter, the thick fluffy blanket she'd pulled down still draped around her body, her piercing blue eyes scanning the empty formal hall.

Her version of Heaven was bizarre, but strangely what she'd always wanted.

The cliché Heaven she'd expected to receive was the one with a huge red bricked house, a neatly painted picket fence and a welcoming porch, all with a loving family inside. The eternal happiness people assumed she'd dreamed of since becoming an assassin.

They were all wrong, of course.

She was Natasha Romanoff, and more importantly Black Widow. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s best assassin.

The Heaven she received was perfect, a grand hall made of the best kind of marble to exist. The floors were the kind of white that appeared to glow, making the blood that had lazily pooled by the stool seem an uninvited mess of colour; the walls were tall and had a tanned cream wallpaper covered in faint patterns that danced if you watched closely enough; behind the thick purple velvet curtains hid huge glass windows panelled with dark pine, the blue sky outside was lined with thin puffy clouds; the whole room smelt of dried roses, reminding her of the expensive perfume she'd received from billionaires she'd been hired to kill, a present from a criminal, yes, but damn it smelt great; the only furniture was the small stool, the throne which sat in an intimidating manner on a few maroon carpet covered stairs and a long mahogany table filled with many kinds of torture weapons, such as whips, poisons and many kinds of blades.

Natasha's favourite part of this place is that no matter whether they were alive or dead in the real world, if she hated them for whatever reason, they would appear chained to the bare stool and she could do whatever she wanted to them, no red added onto her ledger, her vengeance could be vented however and whenever she wanted it to be now.

Surprisingly, being alone for eternity wasn't so lonely. She indulged in the peace as if it was satisfying the hunger for quiet she'd felt her whole life.

Now and then, but very rarely, she'd wonder out of her room and into the nature of beyond the giant wooden doors. Outside was a lush green, trees and vines engulfing her, making her feel at ease and safe with the wildly coloured plants and the steady stream. She'd named this place the Garden of Serenity, it did make her feel serene after all, plus the name did fit with the whole Heaven thing…

**~ (-) ~**

Footsteps, a rattle of chains, more footsteps, then silence.

"Ah." Natasha spoke into the silence; a twisted smile matching the shine in her eyes was planted on her face at the all too familiar noise. She hadn't turned around to see who was sat behind her; a strange feeling filled her stomach and chest, a sort of longing and knowledge…

Shaking it off as one of those _I-bet-I-hate-this-guy-a-lot _feelings she sometimes got, she slowly turned to face her enemy, idly swirling the rosé wine in the crystal glass, making her look scary yet extremely seductive.

The moment her eyes clamped on who was cuffed, blindfolded and gagged to the stool, her jaw dropped to the floor, eyes widened, breath hitched and blood drained completely. The glass smashed onto the floor like a red crystal waterfall before disappearing from the carpet.

The comforting silence she loved was gone and replaced with a deafening one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hope you like this so far guys! **

**Reviews/etc would be lovely c; x**

Every emotion ran through her at once: a feeling of home with a hint of belonging; shock; joy; concern; anger; worry; frustration; relief; excitement. It all made her feel like she was drowning in metaphorical colours. Only just realising she was still standing there, mouth wide open like a fish, completely unlike her, her jaw clenched shut and she swallowed hard. Even though he couldn't see, she wouldn't stand there making a fool of herself.

Then her brain was bombarded with her own shrilling voice.

_Why is he here?_

_Why am I here?_

_People who I hate come here, I don't hate him! _

_Is he actually here, or just a fragment of my heaven?_

_What even is Heaven?_

_Does he know where we are?_

_Does he know I'm standing here..?_

_Heck, I don't know where we are._

_Does he know it's me?_

_Am I even me?_

_What the hell is going on?!_

"C-" she attempted to speak, but the lump in her throat objected the idea. She attempted again, but nothing, her mouth was becoming dry and breathing became something of great skill, a skill she couldn't even begin to master. Taking a deep, ragged breath, she stepped forward gracefully; the pastel pink dress that clung to her figure pooled along the marble floor around her bare feet, each step was hesitant and cautious. Natasha's head tilted to the side as if she were a small, confused animal witnessing something utterly confusing yet precious as she knelt on the floor in front of the stool where her visitor sat, eyeing the agent in front of her like it was a rare animal, slowly reaching out her hand and gently placing it on his. To her horror, as she did so he flinched violently, making her pull her hand away and gasp. "_I bet he's so scared, not knowing where he is…" _she cried at herself with remorse. In all honesty, she was concerned that he'd fade or something of the like if she attempted to touch him again. After reassuring herself that neither of them were about to go anywhere, which included an argument with herself, she nonchalantly unhooked the key which lazily dangled between her collarbones and twisted it inside the cuffs which dug into the skin of her new 'victim', allowing him to pull himself free and stumble backwards, still blindfolded and gagged, leading him to end in a messy heap on the hard floor.

Despair overwhelmed her, he seemed to be so afraid of her and it hurt Natasha like mad. She swore she could feel her heart sink as she watched him clumsily sit up and hold his arms up in defence and surrender, something she rarely, scratch that, _never _saw.

Not being able to take in seeing him like this anymore, she rushed to his side, amazingly not tripping on the pink waterfall of a dress. Ignoring his weak attempts to get away she felt her forehead contact with his, almost instinct. The familiar warmth of his skin started sending tendrils of excitement and comfort soaring across forehead, as if it were wisps of smoke dancing on her nerves. Even though he was completely oblivious, or so she assumed he was, to whom she even was, his attempts of struggle and escape weakened, they were still there of course, it would be sheer stupidity to play it safe when your senses have been taken away and you're clueless as to where you even are they were _both _aware of that.

Before she could even register what her brain was telling her body to do, her lips found his, pressing hard as her delicate fingers tangled in the soft of his hair. The kiss was chaste and over before it had properly begun, but it meant a lot, more than a lot. It was some sort of bonding, a joining of a stinging electrical wire that sparked for reconnection; no words were needed at this moment. They both sat there, breath quickened as if they'd been running for hours, thighs only just brushing whilst they sat on the cold floor.

"Natasha" he whispered like it was something so sacred, that he himself was unworthy of being in the presence of, his breath audibly catching as he spoke out her name.

"Clint" she breathed, her hands had snaked around her own waist, hugging herself in an attempt for comfort and support.

She was so used to having only herself now, the red head was confused with the concept of time in Heaven, it felt as if she'd been up here for years, whilst at the same time only hours, and for all she knew it could have only been seconds down on Earth.

"You're here" her voice was brimming with delight and peace.

"You're here." She repeated, a tone of uncertainty dripping from her tongue, her dark brows now furrowed in thought. "You're _here._"

A few seconds past, nobody said or did anything; Natasha just sat there, repeating what she'd just said to herself over and over again…

"YOU'RE HERE!" she practically screamed, her voice radiating off the delicate tiles and bouncing around, amplifying her anger and fear.

"Natasha, wait-" he said, as calmly as he could. After all these years, he was used to his partner's anger, but here, there was something more magnified and spine-shivering about it.

"_WAIT?" _she repeated, clearly outraged by his attempt of explanation "No! You _wait! _What the fuck do you think you're doing here, Clint? You're supposed to be down on Earth, _protecting _it with the rest of those jack asses!" he knew by that she meant the Avengers Initiative, the team they'd both been placed in to defend their country, he had to fight the urge to smile what she'd called them. "You were supposed to move on, like agents do! Get a new partner! Build a new relationship! Heck, get married and have kids, I don't know! Just…" Natasha stopped, head bowed and shoulders slumped. Her voice became a mere whisper; "just not here Clint… just not… _dead_"


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry I've taken a while to update guys, it decided to snow where I live and my house is on a stupid hill!-.- been nothing but stress and cold! Anyway, I'll stop boring you with my life, hope you lovelies enjoy! **

Rope

Natasha's head was still spinning, she felt as if someone had turned her head into tumble dryer stuck on high. She wanted him here with her but also down there, back alive… She wanted him, but she wanted him alive.

Frustration radiated off her, causing Clint's frown to deepen as he watched her face screw up. He wasn't stupid and he knew her far too well to know she wasn't debating with herself, it was always far more confusing than that. Her inner conflicts could go on for hours, she'd sit there in silence as she pouts and knits her brows together. Clint had tried to help her solve the conflict many a time, but she'd only end up stressing even more, so he'd stick to bringing her drinks and sitting there awaiting for her need to vent out overflowing thoughts.

"Hey, Tash?" he asked quietly, focusing his eyes on the tatty rope restraining his wrists "could I get outta these?" Clint lifted his arms up to show the rope properly, a half amused smile on his face.

"What? Oh, sure, sorry" she nodded, kneeling in front of him and attempting to untie his arms. After determined trying and cursing, her hands were sore and red but the rope hadn't budged a bit. "Guess I wanted you extra restrained" she chuckled quietly.

"What do you mean?" he frowned, tilting his head a little "why would you have anything to do with this"

_Oh, right! He's new to this! No one's explained yet!_

Natasha chuckled again and sat crossed legged a little away from touching distance in front of him. "Well," she started "Heaven is literally what you want it to be, and whoever you want it to be with. My idea of Heaven," she spread her arms out dramatically "is this. What happens here is: whoever I dislike, well _hate,_ will turn up roped to a chair like you were, and basically I'd torture the crap out of them until I felt I could let a bit of the anger towards them disappear, my own method of forgiveness really."

Any normal person would be too embarrassed to say that aloud, or at least say it casually, but Clint knew Natasha and Natasha new Clint, being angry and wanting bloody, messy revenge was more than normal. Some of the things they'd been through made this look like nothing, so Clint couldn't say he was surprised.

"So, it's kind of like… something you wanted quite bad?" he asked, intrigued into this whole situation.

"I think it's more than that" Natasha admitted "I think it's a longing that you've had forever, finally given to you after your life didn't give it to you"

"So you've been longing for revenge forever?" he asked, smiling a little. _That was just like Natasha._

"After…" she swallowed and pushed a strand of her hair back "after I lost my family, it's all I wanted, they didn't deserve it and I wanted to find someone to blame and make them pay"

Clint frowned a little, looking at the almost invisible patterns painted onto the marble tiles. "Hey, Tash?" he asked after a few silent moments "how come your longing wish wasn't to have a normal life, to be with your family?" He watched her face for signs of offence or upset.

A flicker of guilt and sadness appeared in her eyes but it was gone almost before Clint could see it. Almost.

"You can tell me" he smiled, raising a brow a little.

Natasha nodded. "I don't count as normal anymore, the normal family thing wouldn't be me, at all. I'd love it, but I'm not scrawny, quiet Russian called Natalia Romanova born in Stalingrad with ridiculous red hair am I? I'm Natasha Romanoff, Black Widow, god damn Assassin!" the end came out as a yell.

"Hey" Clint hushed her, shuffling forward as best he could despite being tied up "you're a _great _god damn assassin! You're not that red head, no, but you're _my _red head, got it?"

"Got it" she whispered, eyes staying on her palms which were placed stiffly on her lap.

"So why am I here then? Was I on your list of hatred?" he laughed.

"Of course you weren't" she said, trying not to smile but failing "I think its cause-" she cut off abruptly.

"Cause what?" Clint ushered.

"Cause I love you and I miss you and I want to be with you literally forever more than anything in the entire world" Natasha spoke in a rush, not breaking for breath once.

"So you _do _want me here then?"

"I do"

"Then I'm here because you want me here?"

"It doesn't work like that?"

"What do mean" he frowned, yet again.

"Heaven can be with whomever you want it to be with, as long as they want to be with you too"

"Who says I don't want to be with you?"

Natasha snorted, shaking her head. "Who would?"

"Me" he answered simply, eyes scanning her.

"What was your inner longing?" she asked in an attempt to change the course of the conversation, and of course she failed.

Clint smiled. "Knowing me, something soppy like you, and my bow of course." He winked as she rolled her eyes.

"That's it?" she asked, truthfully she was expecting more, like a huge apartment on the top floor with a pool and attractive women.

"I don't need anything else" he shrugged. Typical Clint: not wanting; not stretching his imagination and lust to new levels; always having necessities and nothing more.

"Typical you" she chuckled, starting to play with the hem of her dress.

"You look beautiful" he spoke casually, eyes slowly lingering down her dress.

Natasha simply replied by rolling her eyes again.

"Accept my compliment!" he whined, making her smile "stand up"

"Why?" she frowned, doing so anyway, pulling Clint up with her as he stuck his hands out.

He stepped back from her a little, eyes slowly wandering over her properly this time, sending her cheeks a slight pink in colour. Natasha was used to attention when it came to dressing up, but with Clint it actually meant something.

Clint put his hands out, making Natasha assume he wanted assistance with stepping forward, but as she took his hand he held on and pulled her towards him, holding her wrists tight but not so it'd hurt her. Their bodied had become pressed together against the wall, he hadn't recalled walking them there but he was thankful for it's presence as Natasha shoved him against it, smiling with a hint of mischief before pressing her glossy lips against his.


	4. Chapter 4

**Final chapter, oooh! This is kinda just to round things off, I was totally clueless as to what to write-.- well I hope you enjoy anyway my lovelies x**

4. Innocence 

"Are you going to let me go then?" Clint smiled after Natasha pulled her face away from his with a mischievous smile. He held up his arms so it was clear he meant the rope.

"I tried, remember" she said quietly, her eyes fixed to his, watching them with interest.

Clint couldn't help but laugh "this is Heaven, remember? You can have what you want. Get a knife or something?"

The red-head's shaped brows knitted together as her tongue slowly dragged along her bottom lip "maybe I don't want to."

One of the archer's brows raised, he decided to pretend he was innocent and naïve, like he had no idea where she was heading. "Why not?" he pouted "I thought you said you didn't hate me? Changed your mind?"

"Nope" she replied, making her lips make a popping noise on the p.

"Then why won't you let me go?" he asked in a slightly whiny tone, still pouting.

"Because…" she dragged out slowly in a teasing manner, long finger nails trailing up and down his chest. She came to a halt mid air, grinning with a glint of torment and playfulness in her eyes "I don't have to answer to you."

"Oh, you don't?" he asked, sounding as lost and confused as he could "why might that be?"

"This is my Heaven. I can do anything I want."

"Anything?" his voice flowed with pure innocence and confusion. Natasha growled at the act he was playing, frowning with impatience. Clint bit the inside of his cheek to stop him from grinning.

"Hang on" she nodded towards him before closing her eyes. The room stayed silenced for a few seconds before the scene in front of him began to churn and melt like wet paper, he squeezed his eyes shut and when they reopened he was somewhere completely different.

The white marble floor had been replaced with plush cream carpet which Clint's feet sank into, the walls were decorated with black velvet, looking sleek and soft in the flickering candles which were spread around the room. The only piece of furniture in the room was the huge- _extremely_ huge bed pushed against the centre of the wall, it was made of dark expensive looking wood with four-posts, each with a string of roses wrapped from top to bottom. The bedding was rich crimson and silky, inviting and definitely looked comfortable.

"There we go" Natasha smiled at him, the look in her eyes made him want to give up the act and throw her onto the bed, but winding her up was too much fun.

"Why are we here?" he asked, looking around in awe "are you sleepy?"

The look on her face was worth the whole act, her brow deepened; her top lip lifted and exposed her teeth as she made a low growling noise as her eyes filled with determination.

"That is _enough"_ she almost yelled at him, grabbing the rope that bound his wrists and pulled him across the room and shoved him hard onto the bed.

"_Oh_" he smiled, watching her face light up as he made a noise of understanding. "_I'm _the one that's going to sleep!"

Natasha groaned and closed her eyes for a second, when they opened Clint had been tied to the headboard with thinner- but equally as strong- rope.

"Stop the act Clint!" she said in a low voice as she pulled the side of her dress, it came off easily. She dropped it onto the floor, exposing her creamy flesh which seemed even paler in the jet black underwear she had on, lace lining down the side of her thighs and stopping at the flowery patterned black garters.

Clint's eyes wandered over her body slowly, stopping at her strong collar bones. He swallowed hard; keeping up the act was certainly going to be harder now.

Slowly she got onto the bed herself and straddled him, planting soft teasing kisses on his jaw line. Her fingers slowly began to undo the buttons of his crisp white shirt, fingers slowly dancing in torment across his skin.

"_Act over." _He thought to himself quickly.

Clint grinned now Natasha was preoccupied, not looking at Clint's face. Without warning, his teeth softly sunk into her neck causing her to groan with surprise and pleasure.

"_I have plenty of time for the innocent act" _he mused in his head, heck, he had time for any and every act.

They were in Heaven.


End file.
